I'm not going to spend much time with you here tonight because I just finished reading The Part About Archimboldi,and now all I feel is a sense of profound sadness. Maybe it's due to the book itself. Maybe it's due to the end of the 2666 readalong, which was a lot richer experience than I'd anticipated. In any event, I don't want my mood to decay into a sort of cheap sentimentalism. You all deserve better than that. What I will say is that The Part About Archimboldi did a number on me. After so many pages of clues and elliptical references, it was completely gratifying to learn so much about the life of Benno von Archimboldi (né Hans Reiter). I could spend 20 blog posts on the character without getting to the bottom of his story, but the one thing that really struck me about him was his presence at one holocaust in Europe and at another, of women, in Mexico. Was he just another casualty of the violence of the 20th century, an avenging angel, or the personification of the Greek Thanatos? I think you could make a case for all three of those things if you tried. Whatever your take on that, I also enjoyed Bolaño's portrayal of Lotte, Ingeborg, and the Baroness: three complex female characters drawn with a tenderness that underscores the hundreds of tragedies at the heart of The Part About the Crimes. Without actually saying it, Bolaño seems to want to remind us that war and not peace is the natural state of man. That injustice is king. That the stars themselves are a sort of ubi sunt warning to the living. He offers up Art as a possible escape route, but as a testament to his own artistry he isn't really convincing in this regard. In a book that deals with the relationship between life and art and art and history in such a visceral way, I guess I shouldn't be surprised to walk away from 2666 feeling so remarkably blue. However, I look forward to reading it again in the future. It was tremendous.

I so know what you mean, Richard! I felt sad when I finished the book, but I feel even sadder now that everyone is posting their responses. I'm afraid I gave in to sentimentalism a bit, but oh well.

And I agree about the women! Much more interesting women in this section, especially Lotte. One of the things that made me sad about finishing the book was being introduced to her only a scant 100 or so pages from the end; I wanted to spend more time with her.

Personally, I like the interpretation of Archimboldi as very human, not a personification of anything. Other people - the Critics, Lotte - try to make him into something larger or more symbolic than he is, but he's really just this man, very relatable and fallible, living his life of wonder and sadness in the way he must. I thought his simple humanity was such an effective counterpoint to where we began the novel, with the Critics' self-important idolatry toward him.

Whenever you write in Spanish, I'm always pleasantly surprised at how much I can decipher without a dictionary. I'm glad my knowledge doesn't seem to be slipping too much, although I should definitely make more of an effort to work on it. And it's great that you immediately translate yourself, because then I can compare the two.

I think a lot of us have noticed that this section seems more hopeful and somehow "lighter" than the others. I wrote a bit about how Archimboldi, Lotte, and Ingeborg seem to be the only characters in the whole ginormous book who feel genuine love for other human beings. Now I wonder if it's a coincidence that Archimboldi is also the only character who creates anything? And doesn't go crazy? Emily brought up Oscar Fate, but I'm thinking of imaginative works, like art and fiction.

It was tremendous, wasn't it? And I find I had much the same sentimental reaction as you but with some slight variations in reasons. And yes, I did appreciate the more fleshed out female characters as I was beginning to despair over Bolano's female characterizations in Part 4 as you know.

And Emily, your point here about Archimboldi's humanity, simplicity is wonderful. Eery in that it foreshadows some of the hoopla over Bolano after his death.

*Hi Emily! I wasn't worried about anybody else giving in to their feelings--I just didn't want to get all sappy in my post, and I was afraid of myself both because of how much I enjoyed the book and because of the specter of Bolano's death that hovered over the very end of the work! Both R, above, and Frances, in her post, mentioned Bolaño's death without losing it, so maybe I worried myself unnecessarily about that at the time. In terms of Archimboldi, I think I'd have to reread the book more carefully to see if I could figure out whether all the Thanatos references that could apply to him are accidental or intentional. What you say about him and his lack of a symbolic value--especially juxtaposed against the Critics' perception of him--is quite insightful and lovely, though. Talk to you soon!

*Hi E.L. Fay! I found Archimboldi to be as bleak and depressing in its own way as The Part About the Crimes, but I'll save you another rant on that since I already explained why both on your blog and Claire's. I do agree that there are plenty of lyrical and even tender moments, but they're too often accompanied by crises and trauma for me to feel that this section's really lighter in tone overall (the perfect symbol of this is Archimboldi's love for Ingeborg, who dies early after coughing up blood in the shape of a flower). Your ideas about Archimboldi and creativity are really intriguing, though. Also, thanks so much for mentioning your positiveexperiences with my bilingual posts. They're actually a huge pain in the neck to do at times (mostly because my Spanish is fairly rudimentary but also because there's the added pressure of not wanting to embarrass myself in two languages!), and I often wonder whether they're even worth the bother given the number of people who comment on this blog with any regularity (I appreciate the fact that you're one of those people, though!). Cheers!

*Hi Frances! I think it's interesting, as Emily and others have mentioned elsewhere, that many of us have had a sentimental reaction to the end of this work. Not sure I would have predicted that after the outcry over The Part About Amalfitano's alinearity or The Part About the Crimes's brutality! On to Kristin indeed--glad that most of the group will be soldiering on intact. Cheers!

This was absolutely my favorite part and now that I've finished, I don't want to let 2666 go. So I've been thinking... I have to come up with a master's thesis topic in a few months. Maybe 2666? Too ambitious? Too terrifying? Thank you for making this a wonderful readalong, and I can't wait for Kristin Lavransdatter.

*Hi Lu! Sorry I'm so late checking out your post, but I'm glad to hear that the last part was your fave and that you dug 2666 enough to consider it for a potential thesis topic. Sounds like a great idea to me! Also happy that you're not too busy with school to carry on with the KL readalong. ¡Hasta pronto!